


Scars

by geogirl2014



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Aftermath of Violence, Badass Katara (Avatar), Badass Zuko (Avatar), Blood and Violence, Canonical Character Death, Episode: s03e16 The Southern Raiders, F/M, Gen, Implied Katara/Zuko (Avatar), Romance, Scars, Tragedy, Tragic Romance, Wartime Romance, Zuko's Scar (Avatar)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-06
Updated: 2020-10-06
Packaged: 2021-03-08 07:01:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,284
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26847862
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/geogirl2014/pseuds/geogirl2014
Summary: Katara lied. She lied to her father, to Sokka, to Gran-gran, to everyone who ever asked what happened to her mother. She even lied to herself.But not Zuko. She thought he deserved to know about how cruel his people really were.Just a little bitty oneshot.
Relationships: Aang & Katara (Avatar), Hakoda & Katara (Avatar), Katara & Kya (Avatar), Katara & The Gaang (Avatar), Katara/Zuko (Avatar)
Comments: 10
Kudos: 144





	Scars

**Author's Note:**

> This is all my husband's fault. He gave me the idea. Blame him.

Katara lied. She lied to her father, to Sokka, to Gran-gran, to everyone who ever asked what happened to her mother. She even lied to herself.

But not Zuko. She thought he deserved to know about how cruel his people really were.

They made camp after finding out about Yon Rha, few islands west of Whale Tale island. She found she actually enjoyed camping alone with Zuko. Aang, Sokka, and Toph all relied on her for cooking, washing, mending clothes and blankets, cleaning everything from dishes to weapons, and on and on. She felt like she was their mom and without her they couldn’t function. And though at times she didn’t mind that feeling of being needed, the responsibility weighed on her heavily. She had always taken care of others, putting everyone above herself but it did not escape her notice that no one tried to take care of her or even help her really. Zuko, however, never asked her for anything and in fact, shouldered some of the responsibilities of caring for the little group. He helped her clean up from meals, washed and mended is own clothes and blankets, made tea for himself and everyone else. He’d even helped cook when he could, usually by controlling the fire to make it easier for to cook things the way she wanted them. She never even had to ask. That night, they set up quickly, throwing down their bedrolls on the soft grass under a clear, starry sky. Zuko started a fire and began cooking before she’d even realized it. She had been so lost in own thoughts about what would happen tomorrow and what had happened that day that she just, didn’t notice.

“You’re cooking?” She asked suddenly. Zuko jerked his head up, his golden eyes met hers evenly as he smirked.

“It probably won’t be as good as your cooking, but I thought you could use a break. You cook almost every night.” He brushed his hair from his face and returned to preparing the vegetables for the pot. He wasn’t wrong, she needed a break. It was hard work caring for everyone and the whole finding-her-mothers-killer thing had her emotionally and mentally exhausted. She whispered her thanks and laid down, replaying the lie she had told every moment since her mother died.

_She ran from the soldiers and the fighting; all she could think about was her mom. She ran until she stopped cold just inside her family’s igloo. A man with gleaming, gold eyes was standing over her mother._

_“Katara, go!” Her mother ordered._

_“You better listen to your mommy, kid.” The man smirked with dangerous gleam in his eyes._

_Katara was too afraid to move. “Mommy, I’m scared.” She whimpered._

_“Go find your dad Sweetie. I’ll handle this.” Her mother said softly._

_She sniffled and ran out, straight to her father._

At least that was what she told everyone. Told herself. The truth was so much worse. Unable to lay still for too long Katara moved to sit on the small log that was nestled by the fire.

Zuko wasn’t going ask, she knew that. She knew he understood what it was like to lose a mother and that this whole mission was bound to be hard for her. As much as she tried to hate him for betraying her in Ba Sing Se, she couldn’t. Not when he looked at her and she finally saw someone as broken as she was. It hurt to have him turn on her and her friends of course, but in some strange way she understood that he hadn’t been ready. However, she’d never been good with dealing with her emotions or her pain, so she’d been lashing out, mainly in fear, of whatever it was that he had sparked in her among the soft glow of underground crystals. Her thoughts faded when Zuko handed her a bowl of vegetables and rice with a soft smile then moved to sit next to her, leaving a large gap between them. They sat in comfortable silence, enjoying the fire and the food and each other. Katara found it nice to not be bombarded by questions or jokes or just constant chatter. It was peaceful. After the silence stretched past the pair cleaning their dishes and storing the food, Katara found herself wanting him to ask. She needed someone to know.

“Do you want to know what happened?” She asked softly. Zuko’s eyes snapped to hers, golden and gleaming in the firelight like embers themselves. He looked so natural in firelight, the golden-reddish-orange subtly darkening his pale skin and casting shadows against his face where his dark hair fell over burning, bronzy eyes. The flames highlighted every angle of his face, including the scar, making him look every inch the Prince he was. She could understand now why his name meant Glory in the tongue of the Fire Nation. His jaw tensed then relaxed repeatedly as he stared at her pensively, like he didn’t how to respond. He voice was warm but detached when he finally answered.

“I’m not going to ask. If you want to tell me, I’ll listen.” He frowned, his jaw tightening up more than earlier before he continued. “But it doesn’t matter to me. I understand not wanting anyone to know the truth.”

Katara stared at him in the firelight. He deserved…no. He needed to know. If he was going to be better than his forefathers, he needed to know.

“My tribe was always…distrustful of me. I was a waterbender and that meant I was a threat. As long as I lived my tribe would be in danger of more fire nation attacks. So, I had to be quiet, keep my head down, never make trouble. Sokka…never really knew; it was a secret between my parents and me. When the ships came, and the fighting started, I got scared. I was 8 at the time. Sokka was 10 and always trying to be a warrior, even as a kid. I was quieter because I knew they were there for me, so I ran. I went to my mom because she could keep me safe even from my own tribesmen. Someone in our tribe had to have betrayed my father and told the fire nation about me after all, so I wasn’t exactly safe near the fighting or with my own people. When I got to the igloo, Yon Rha was already there, talking to my mom. She told me to leave but I was too scared. He grabbed my hair and put a fire covered dagger to my throat and told my mom if she didn’t tell him who the waterbender was, he would kill me. She told him it was her. He laughed. And I’ll never forget what he said to me then.

‘Well, looks like you’re about to learn a valuable lesson about lying.’

Then flames erupted from his hands as he set her on fire. He grabbed my hair again when I tried to run and forced me to watch as she screamed and burned. Probably kept the fire from us with his other hand, I don’t know.” She gulped down tears, wiping her face and taking some breaths to calm herself. Her fingers began tracing anxiously over her left wrist. “Once she was nothing but a charred corpse, he carved into my wrist with his dagger. He laughed when he was done and told me that everyone would know that I was the traitor who got the last waterbender killed. Then he let me go. I ran to my dad and told him all could manage. There was man in our igloo. When we got back, he was gone. He asked what I had seen. I lied.” Katara paused, ther weight of the word settling the air like a cloud ready to burst with rain. Her voice trembles on until it merely dissolves. “I was so scared that I would be blamed just like he said that I lied. I lied to him, to Sokka, even to myself. But that is the truth.”

She felt overwhelmed, like she was drowning in earth. She couldn’t ever let go around Aang or any of the others. They needed her too much to see her broken. But Zuko? Zuko would understand. After what they shared in Ba Sing Se, he would understand what it meant to be broken. So, she let go of her strength and all her walls and let herself feel everything she a tried so hard to push away and ignore and destroy. The memories replayed pulling her down into a whirlpool of fear and pain and panic. Memoires of her travels began to play too, of Jet’s hands wandering her body despite her protests, of Zhao’s cold eyes, of Aang’s near death in Ba Sing Se, of Zuko’s betrayal, of blood bending. Of all the times she nearly died, or her friends or brother nearly died. Memories of the horrors of war. She was spinning and the freezing water was pulling her down to drown her.

And just when she thought she was going to drown, she felt strong arms envelope her. And the warmth of fire warming not just her limbs, but the ice she built up to protect her heart. For the first time since fire burned all sense of innocence from her heart and her soul, she found herself basking, warm and safe, in brightly burning flames.

Zuko listened intensely has Katara told him the truth about what happened to her mother. He knew his people had been cruel, but he was horrified to know the kind of depravity his people had fallen to. He felt like he was burning in a pool of the blood his ancestors and his people spilled from the world. No amount of fire could ever burn away the guilt of his betrayal, the fear in her eyes, the scars on Aang’s back, the shadows in his uncle’s eyes, or the loss of a little boy’s mother, or brother. He moved toward Katara instantly but stopped himself. She would never want the comfort of a blood-soaked prince. He watched her eyes grow wet and hazy with tears and tried to think of something to say but all words were gone when she started to tremble, the hidden weight of all she had experienced suddenly bearing down.

He knew what it was like to bury everything inside so deeply you forgot your own truth. Until he returned to his homeland, he thought he should embrace his inner rage and self-hatred and let it burn others lest it burn him. For so long cared only for himself and for his own needs. It had taken losing everything and then losing himself in moment of weakness he would always regret to make him realize that fire could burn with passion, purity, pride, and even love. Her skin was like ice when he finally found the courage to touch her, and when he did, she melted into him. It felt like he was dowsed in warm summer rain which quenched the inferno of flames and washed away the blood burning in his skin.

They woke still in that first embrace, and after a simple exchange about the plan for the day, the pair left camp on their mission to confront Yon Rha. They found him in small village on the eastern edge of whale tail island. It was easy to trail him when he visited a vegetable stand in the village. They were careful to avoid being directly seen but not avoid suspicion entirely in order to keep Yon Rha on edge. Once Katara heard his voice she was certain he was the monster who hurt her mother and her. The pair followed him along a dirt path that was soon far enough from anyone else that they could attack. Rustling a bush with her water bending was easy under the downpour of rain. Katara watched with great anticipation as the man turn on heel shouting “Nobody sneaks up on me without being burned.” And released a stream of fire toward the bush. While his back was turned Zuko dropped down behind the man, making the older bender jump when he turned back to his spilt groceries. “We weren't behind the bush.” Zuko said flatly before sinking into a firebending stance as the older man attacked. The prince dodged easily and broke Yon Rha’s poor stance with a single, well-aimed, burst of flame making the man trip and fall to the ground. “And I wouldn't try fire bending again.” Zuko threatened, his voice colder and harder than Katara had heard it in a long time.

“Take whatever you want, I'll cooperate.” Yon Rha whimpered from the ground, his arms coming up to shield his face.

Karata stepped forward, and pulled the mask off her face. “Do you know who I am?”

“No,” He began but when she stepped closer, her unbound wrist coming into better view along with her he continued. “I'm not sure.”

“Oh, you better remember me like your life depends on it! Why don't you take a closer look?” Katara snapped, her rage starting to take control as she stepped forward and put her face into his space.

“Oh, yes. I remember you now.” A sinister smirk appeared on the man’s wrinkled face. “You're the little Water Tribe girl I marked. How did it heal?” He spat viciously.

Katara couldn’t control her rage an instant longer. “She was protecting the last waterbender in our tribe and I watched her die for it.”

“What?” His surprise was palpable. “Who was the real waterbender?”

With her voice cold as ice Katara felt the water calling all around her as she took control. “Me!” She growled in the murderer’s face, and without an ounce of hesitation raised her arms to freeze the rain the place. Katara watched out of the corner of her eye as Zuko pulled down his mask and stared with wonder at the accumulating rain drops. The with raged filled cry Katara moved her arms in quick motion, drawing the water drops toward Yon Rha as she froze them into dangerously sharp ice needles.

Yon Rha chuckles darkly as he meets Katara’s gaze. “You deserve revenge. So why don't you take my Mother? That would be fair.” He keeps the smirk on his face the whole time, hiding the terror he truly feels.

For a moment Katara draws the ice closer then pauses as her eyes glisten with newfound understanding. “I always wondered what kind of person could do such an evil thing. But now that I see you, I think I understand. There's just nothing inside you. Nothing at all. You're pathetic, sad and empty. But as much as I hate you... I just can't do it. I can’t kill you. I won’t be a monster like you are.”

With those words Katara drops her stance and rain begins to fall again as she walks off in nearly a trance.

Zuko knew from the beginning Katara would never be able to end a life. It just wasn’t her. But he could. And after what he had learned from Katara, he could feel his own rage boiling viciously as she walked away, leaving him alone with a murderer who murdered an innocent woman, tortured a child and left them broken and scarred. It was far to close to his heart for him to remain neutral.

“She might not be able to kill you,” Zuko began as he drew the long Dao blades from his back and approached the man, “But I can.”

Yon Rha tried to run but the rain made him slip in the mud around him. The last thing he saw was Zuko’s face before the twin blades severed his head from his body. Zuko cleaned the blades on the corpse’s stained shirt before walking away.

He found Katara soaked to the bone, wandering the forest and wasted no time in calling Appa with Aang’s whistle. Soon after, they were back at their camp from the night before. Just as the night before, Zuko cooked a quick dinner of rice and vegetables and ate with Katara in silence. She was trembling and he couldn’t tell if it was from the cold, anger, or her own memories. He was trying to figure out what to do or what to say to her but decided maybe it was best to just keep silent. When they had finished their dinner and he cleaned up, he joined her on the log by the fire sitting closer to her than he had the night before. As they sat in silence, he began to make the fire dance, creating fascinating creatures and flowers from the red and orange and gold flames. After a while Katara leaned against him and shivered so he gently wrapped an arm around her and increased his body heat, an old trick he learned from his uncle. She sighed softly.

“I thought I would feel better…knowing what he is. But I…” She trailed off as she stared at her arm, now once again covered in wrappings, her delicate fingers twisting in the fabric of her tunic.

“What’s still bothering you Katara?” He asked softly, meeting her deep cerulean eyes, and hoping she would let him in.

“I want to know what it means, Zuko. He marked me and I don’t know what it means.” She ran a hand through her thoroughly tangled hair. “A fortune teller in the earth kingdom, right after we first started travelling with Aang, told me it would lead me to someone I needed, a powerful bender, glorious and honorable, who would change everything but she didn’t translate it. She just talked about it.” Katara always wondered what Aunt Wu meant by those words. She’d been so certain she was talking about Aang but Katara found it difficult to feel more than a passing affection for the boy. He was the first boy, close to her own age, she’d ever met besides her brother so of course she felt something toward him.

Zuko’s calloused fingertips brushed against where her hand had fisted in her tunic, his warm palm coming to rest over the back of her left hand. He met her eyes for moment then gently turned her hand over, revealing her palm. He touched the cloth she had kept around her wrist since that dark day many years ago. He rough fingers carefully removed the wrappings revealing her scar. Carved into warm brown skin on the underside of her wrist were three Fire Nation symbols in a vertical line. His fingers traced it with the same softness and care that her fingers had when she traced his scar weeks earlier.

“Would you like to know what it means?” He asked, shifting over to close the gap between them without looking up from the scar. She nodded, unable to manage any words.

“It’s an old phrase, meant to bring honor to the Fire Lord but, he messed up the symbols in his haste so now it reads differently. It’s supposed to say: ‘For the glorious Lord.’ But he wrote…” Zuko paused before lifting his ember-like eyes to meet her oceanic orbs with an expression of wonder.

“‘For Glory’s Heart.”

It needed no explanation and Katara traced the symbol that represented his name in awe.

When their eyes met, they both wondered how love could still exist in a world so broken.

And as their lips touched and their hands so tentatively touched such different scars, they both knew that they would not lose each other, not after they’d lost so much already. 

**Author's Note:**

> For reference, Zuko's name means Glory in the actual language it is. I'm not sure which language it is though, forgive me. I also noticed that Katara wears wrists wraps or bands or something consistantly through the show so it was perfect for a hidden thing like this. My husband gets the credit for what happened to Yon Rha, but I think Zuko should've killed Yon Rha too now, honestly.


End file.
